


The Fear of Being Forgotten

by Dr_Uni



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Crying, Death, M/M, Sad, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23594278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Uni/pseuds/Dr_Uni
Summary: The mind is the self.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	The Fear of Being Forgotten

It was quick when it happened, as it would be but not as it should. No preconstruction could have perceived what was thought to be a non-variable. Wrong place, wrong time as they say. Audio receptors too focused on one conflict to process a bullet, meant for someone else, unrelated to the ongoing pursuit.

They were both just chasing a suspect that ran the corner. But the alleyway after it had its own victim trying to avoid their own demise somewhat successfully.

All he could hear were the broken cries of his partner yelling his name. Tears started flooding his eyes and when the tension breaks they fall into his own.

His partner hears nothing much other than the blaring ring in his ears and the fast footsteps of the people from the alleyway dealing with their own problems.

Automatically mechanics were called upon injury sent to their location. All they had to worry about was the time ticking away before a forced reboot.

His head laid on his partners knees, jeans now bluer than they should be and the concrete staining a specked splatter. His partner beings to pull their torsos a little closer together, arms wrapped around limp ones, a wet chin dampening his hair.

He tried to reassure the man in his arms when clearly it was for his own ears. He knows his own fate after ignoring is self-diagnosis, it won’t be cruel for him, why would it be.

“Please, don’t miss me.”

* * *

He was the face, same body, sitting in the same chair at the same desk. He wasn’t the same man. Just the husk, an imitation of what he was and holding back the tears in front of his peers as what he once called a lover looks straight back at him with its empty eyes trying to process the emotions of the man who no longer stood taller than he was. The room didn’t know who he was anymore but the thing in the clean white jacket never even got to know who he was. There was nothing to remember.


End file.
